


Faking It

by mosylu



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: A Near Occasion of Smut, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dry Humping, F/M, Masturbation, Not exactly fake dating, Sign Language, Spy Hijinx, but definitely fake sexin'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 12:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10308392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: Working undercover is always a challenge. With Cassian posing as a rich houseguest and Jyn as a servant he's sleeping with, this latest assignment is more difficult than most. Then a sudden development demands that their pretense get more convincing. Alotmore convincing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Притворщики](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13725231) by [Kalgary_Nurse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalgary_Nurse/pseuds/Kalgary_Nurse)



> For the rebelcaptainprompts prompt #6, “Temptation”

Cassian had just lifted his head to check the time when the knock came at his door. He leaned back. “Enter.”

It whooshed open, and Jyn smiled at him. “Nightcap, Mr. Sward?” she purred.

She wore a servant’s getup, black pants and white shirt, her hair actually pinned back instead of falling in her eyes. She had joined the staff of the Imperial governor’s household a day before he got here, temporary staff hired on for the big house party, keeping her eyes and ears open belowstairs while he did the same upstairs.

“Kestrel, how did you know,” he drawled, lolling in his chair, leering at her for the benefit of any eyes in the corridor. “Come on in.”

She came in and set her tray down on a handy table. The drink on it sloshed a little. Alias or not, Jyn was a terrible servant. As the door shut, he rose to his feet, mouth already open to ask what she had learned.

She took two steps across the room, rose up on her toes, and fastened her mouth to his.

He froze.

Up until now, once the door closed behind her they were all business, swapping intel while sitting a decorous three feet apart in the intimate light of the lamp. There had to be a reason for this.

He kissed her back, running his hands down her body. For the look of it, he told himself, not for the warmth of her skin or the way she caught her breath as his fingers skimmed her ribs through the thin silky shirt. Not because her mouth was hot and sweet under his, or because she was pressing herself all along his body.

And absolutely, positively not because he’d been dreaming of just this for months but never seemed to find the opportunity.

She pulled back and looked down. He followed her gaze to where her hand rested on his chest. In Ninevan finger-speech, she signed _Bugged._

His stomach pitched.

He swept the room regularly, but K-2 was monitoring all transmissions channels and might have picked up something he hadn’t. Jyn had K-2 in her ear (and _oh_ did they both complain about that).

To really command Ninevan finger-language, you needed the full complement of eighteen digits and forty-four joints. For all Jyn’s semi-patient teaching, Cassian was still clumsy with the adapted form used by human traders. But he managed to sign, _Where?_

She replied something he couldn’t make out.

He shook his head.

She made the sign again, and he signed, _what?_

She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her again, long and deep, before tracing her lips across his cheek, to his ear. “On you,” she breathed. “Audio.”

He thought back over everything he’d said and done over the past hours. It couldn’t have been before that, because K-2 was very good (and he said so often). He was safe, probably.

But they had to find it immediately, while still making whoever was listening think they didn’t suspect a thing.

Jyn must have had the same thought, because she let out a high-pitched giggle, just like a woman getting felt up. She pressed her lips to the hinge of his jaw, licked down the tendons of his throat, and undid the top button of his shirt before sucking a little wet kiss on his collarbone.

He let out a soft groan.

She went still, looking up at him. He tried to look as if that had been for the benefit of whoever was listening, and not because she’d unerringly found a sensitive spot. Or maybe they were all sensitive spots, under her hungry mouth.

She kissed him there again, and his breath hiccupped. _Excellent, Cassian,_ he commended himself ironically. _Fantastic verisimilitude. Nobody listening could possibly doubt that you’re going half out of your mind with desire for this woman._

Her mouth moved down his chest, and he put his hand in her hair ( _soft, warm,_ stars, he was so lucky she was on his side). Somehow, he remembered that their audience needed input, and murmured, “Mmm, that’s very good - yes - just there - ”

She paused at the third button, her eyes flickering up to his. He craned his neck to study it. The flat pearl-colored button was a hair thicker than its fellows, the color just a smidge off. Not so much that he’d notice it when putting his shirt on in the morning, but it was impossible to match perfectly.

She touched her ear, listened for a moment, and nodded up at him. Yes. This was it.

Her fingers moved down his front faster, undoing the rest of the buttons as they kissed noisily, making the most of mouths and tongues and sighs and groans. His body, uncaring that this was a ruse for listeners’ benefit, crackled with arousal at every brush of her fingers.

The shirt fell to the floor behind him. She took a quick step around him, raising her foot up to stomp the bug into dust -

He grabbed her by the waist. She looked up in shock, and he used his hold to turn her, lift her, and drop her onto the bed. The springs creaked and the headboard thumped.

She tipped over onto her back, unprepared, and he quickly straddled her, knees against her thighs, elbows and forearms bracketing her head.

_Danger!_ she signed, her eyes angry and fearful. Her fingers flared wide in a way that meant shouting in Ninevan. _Escape!_

He laughed and said, “You little minx,” loudly, then kissed her and murmured, “Shhhhhhh,” against her mouth. She pushed at his shoulders. He pulled away from her again and balanced on one elbow to sign, dredging up every bit of vocabulary they’d practiced in idle downtime.

_They not sure spy._ It was just a bug. Joreth Sward had been bugged before, and always continued on his daft and somewhat pompous way. All it meant was someone wanted to overhear his activities, not that they necessarily knew why he was here. There were all kinds of reasons for a bug, for a host as paranoid as Leenetan. It could even be a matter of corporate espionage. That was his cover, after all.

_No burn._ He’d put a lot of work into this identity over the years. He wasn’t willing to burn it by confirming his identity as a Rebellion spy, if they smashed the device and escaped like she wanted to.

_No intel._ They didn’t have what they’d come for, what the Rebellion needed.

_Two days._ The house party was slated to go another two days, at which point he would board his fancy little yacht and sail off to the stars like any other guest. She would stay one more day, get her paycheck, and board an interstellar shuttle bus that would take her to rendezvous with him at the spaceport two moons away.

That was the plan, and if everything worked like it should, the Empire wouldn’t even know they’d been there. That was always the most desired outcome.

_You go,_ he added last. Temp staff was notoriously unreliable. She could skip out to safety if she wanted and nobody would - well, probably they would _care_ because it would leave them short-handed, but nobody would be all that surprised or suspicious.

She glared. _Stupid._

Oh yes. He knew that sign.

She shook her head. _We stay._

He rested his forehead against hers, relief spreading through him. He’d done a lot of these missions on his own, many of them as Joreth Sward, but he’d gotten to depend on having her here, this time. Maybe he should be concerned about that.

He moved to climb off her, and she gripped his shoulders again. He frowned down at her. She made a face back at him and let out a high, breathy moan that went straight to his crotch.

She jerked her head toward his shirt, lying on the floor, and signed _Big ears._ After a moment, he worked out that the bug had a good enough range to hear their activities from several feet away.

And whoever was on the other end was expecting to hear a couple fucking right now, and might be suspicious if they didn’t.

She moaned again, and he added a deep groan to it, one that turned real when she bucked her hips up against his. The springs creaked, and he realized one more auditory detail that she’d thought of.

He started rocking back and forth, setting up a rhythmic creaking noise with an occasional helpful thud from the headboard. He tried to put all his weight into his knees and elbows instead of his hips, but their lower bodies still rubbed together with every motion. There was no way she couldn’t feel how hard he was, even through several layers of cloth.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, moaning, “Do you like that?” Her other hand moved over his bare back.

“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes, that’s good, do that again - ”

No, it wasn’t, it was _awful_. He was so turned on he could barely see straight. He buried his face in her neck and gasped for air.  Against his naked chest, the silky texture of her shirt and the swell of her breasts underneath it tormented him.

She let out a series of increasingly high-pitched whimpers and sighed encouragements, to which he added grunts and groans that were only half pretense.

Fire licked along his nerve endings and desire screamed in his head, telling him to pull her shirt open and press his mouth to her soft breasts, to unbuckle her belt and touch her between her legs until she was crying, _“Yes, please, oh - ”_ for him and not for the bug.

But there was a bug, and this was a mission, and this was Jyn, and this was not the way he wanted it to happen for the first time between them.

She let out a yelp that trailed off into a luscious moan, and he took that as his cue for a series of ragged gasps and a moan of his own.

He rolled off her as fast as humanly possible. They lay next to each other, their panting breaths loud in the quiet room. He pulled his knee up, not at all inconspicuously for a master spy. His cock throbbed against his zipper, hard to the point of pain.

She held her hands up where he could see them and signed, _Stop meeting,_ with the little twist of the wrist that made it into a question.

_No,_ he signed back, big and sloppy. She rolled her head to look into his eyes, and he looked up at the ceiling. After a moment, he signed, _Not make_ \- he hesitated, flailing for the right sign, then finger-spelled, _S-U-S-P-I-C-I-O-U-S._

They’d laid a lot of groundwork to make this dalliance between two apparent strangers believable. When she’d gotten hired, Jyn had speculated openly to the other staff on the number of rich men likely to be at the party. Cassian had leered over every female servant who came in his direction, until Jyn smiled back at him. They’d let themselves be spotted murmuring together in a hallway, his hand on her ass. Then finally, Cassian had rung for a nightcap on his second night there and made a point of requesting “the pretty one, Kestrel.”

With all that careful planning, there was no reason for Kestrel and Joreth to break it off when there were only two nights to go.

She touched his arm to get his attention, and he looked over at her to see her nod. He nodded back, and looked up at the ceiling again, trying to slow his racing heart.

A few minutes later, she pushed herself up from the bed, making a noise somewhere between a satisfied sigh and a coo.

A shudder of need rattled his bones. He desperately wanted to know if she really made that noise after a good orgasm. He pushed himself up on his elbows to watch her. They always made sure to muss her up a little before she left his room, but this was a new achievement. She was soft and flushed, mouth swollen, beard-burn on her neck, hair all a-tumble, her entire outfit rumpled and crumpled.

But apart from all that, she looked so calm that she might have been filing her nails for the past ten minutes.

As for him, he felt like he was going to come apart at the seams.

“I should get back downstairs,” she said aloud.

“No, you should stay here,” he made himself say in a lazy voice, even though if she stayed, he might just drop dead of frustrated desire.

“I don’t want to get in trouble. I might get fired and then what would you do?”

“I would be devastated,” he said gallantly.

She laughed the laugh of a woman who knew full well the man she was with would forget her within hours of their parting. Joreth would forget Kestrel; if they were to ever part ways, Cassian knew he wouldn’t forget Jyn no matter how hard he tried.

She surveyed herself in the mirror with an unreadable expression, tugging once at a particularly stray lock of hair. She straightened out her clothes, tucking and tweaking until they looked sloppy, but suggestively so. She scraped the pins out of her wild hair, shook it out, and efficiently twisted it back up, jabbing the pins back in seemingly at random. But when she gave her head a shake, it all stayed, a miracle of feminine engineering.

So much for hair and clothes, but still, nobody looking at her - her mouth, god, that _mouth_ \- could doubt that she’d just gotten thoroughly fucked. Hell, even he was wondering about it, and he’d been here.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said.

“Promise,” he asked, or commanded, even he didn’t know.

She looked over her shoulder. “Promise.”

She came and knelt on the bed, pressing her lips to his, breathing “Be safe,” into his mouth. His hand came up and cupped the back of her neck, long enough for him to kiss her back and murmur, “You too.”

She pulled away and crossed the room, picking up the tray she’d brought in. At the door, she touched the control and it swished open. She paused on the threshold. “Anything else, Mr. Sward?”

“That will be all, my dear.”

“Have a nice night,” she cooed, and the door snicked shut behind her.

It was the way they’d signed off every one of their meetings to date, but none of them had felt quite so much like the pleasurable liaisons they were supposed to be. So close, and yet so achingly far.

He let himself collapse backward onto the rumpled blanket, arm over his eyes. Well, hell.

This changed things quite a bit. He’d have to write up and encrypt his findings and pass them to Jyn for her to transmit to K-2 every day. He and Jyn were both going to have to be very careful, and ready to evacuate at a moment’s notice. He’d have to come up with comm calls to his “business associates” to make for his eavesdroppers to hear, maybe even codes for K-2 on the other end. Not to mention they'd have to figure out how he'd gotten bugged in the first place. He made a mental note to check all his shirts, relatively sure he'd find a discolored button on each one.

Nothing he couldn’t handle, but still annoying.

He pushed himself up from the bed, staggering toward the ‘fresher. It had a water shower, one of his favorite little luxuries of this assignment. When she’d seen it, Jyn had curled her lip, muttering about the crappy sonics in the servants’ quarters and making him laugh.

He turned the water on high, peeled off the remainder of his clothing, and stepped under the spray.

With a muffled groan, he dropped his head against the tiled wall. After a moment, he took his still-painfully-hard cock in his hand. Shutting his eyes, he stroked himself, long slow movements of his hand that brought heat welling up, spreading under his skin. At last, he allowed himself to feel Jyn’s mouth on his chest, the curves of her body under his on the bed, the sound of her fast, panting breath in his ear. That was all it took for relief, if not satisfaction.

His teeth sank into his lower lip as he bit back all sound - a groan, a sigh, her name.

Trembling, he rested against the wall, feeling water stream down his body, washing away the cum from his hands and his stomach and the tile. It had been bad enough when she was just coming to his room every night, the two of them together in the quiet dark.

But now they had to do this for another two nights?

If he made it off this planet without losing his mind, it would be a miracle.

FINIS


End file.
